


Peach

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander calls John peach and it's adorable, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Peach by the Front Bottoms, Slight Mention of Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Winter, non-binary Lafayette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:19:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander calls John "peach", and it isn't until much later that John realizes why.</p><p>THIS IS THE FIRST DRAFT OF A SERIES, AND THUS WILL BE UPDATED TO MATCH THE CURRENT INDIEVERSE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peach

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the Indieverse, where Lafayette is bigender, Alexander is an indie kid who is too hipster to do his writing on a laptop, John likes the snow too much, Hercules rooms with King George, Eliza is Alexander's confidant and Jefferson can only shut up when Madison tells him to.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> (Also - American college? Unknown to me. Feel free to correct me with ANYHING.)

John hadn't understood why until then.

He'd heard it so many times - spoken absentmindedly, as Alexander worked relentlessly on his desk in the middle of the night and John begged him to jut go to sleep already, or teasingly, when they were with their entire group of friends and Lafayette asked John about his romantic life, or even whispered between the sheets of John's bed that night when it thundered outside and Alexander kept whimpering, clutching to his shirt like the edge of a cliff.

Alexander called him _peach_.

At first, it'd been jokingly, and John had laughed and called Alexander the apple of his eye, flicking his ear before he went back to his essay, shaking his head. But then it continued to happen - Alexander would call him  _peach_ and John didn't know why, but he knew it wasn't arbitrary. He didn't ask, because when people asked Alexander why he did whatever, he'd close like a scared turtle on a hard rock shell, only broken by the clever use of Caribbean food and a little box of Nerds, which he'd shyly take and thank for.

Alexander loved indie music.

While John was a fan of pop punk, Alexander liked to put the strangest, most underground music John had ever heard. Almost none of the songs which he sang and played were ever on the radio. The names varied, and depending on his mood it'd be upbeat or the calmest guitar, and if he entered their dorm a little earlier than the usual, he'd find his friend shaking his hips to the latest of Of Monsters & Men, or maybe to Love of Lesbian.

Alexander's favourite band was The Front Bottoms.

Before meeting him, John had never heard of them. It was only when his dorm door opened and in walked his new roommate, did he discover who they were. He played them at random times of the day, it seemed, and sometimes it was the same song over and over again and other times the songs were from different albums, acoustic or live. By now, John could sing along to songs like _Rhoad Island_ or _Swimming Pool_. The only thing that bothered John was that The Front Bottoms weren't a band that wrote happy songs.

Sure, Alexander would dance to _the Smiths_ and the like if it was upbeat but John knew he wasn't a happy guy. He wrote so much for a reason, he barely took care of himself and the fights with Jefferson took a lot out of him, despite the rumour that the immigrant was unstoppable.

At first, when they'd met each other, they'd been pleasant. Alexander was a busy guy, writing away in his notebook for hours or disappearing until late night with the beat-up laptop he seemed to hate with all his heart, off to the library to consume coffee like a madman and get his work done. John was also busy, preparing for law exams, and he'd barely noticed Alexander at all until winter rolled around and his roommate collapsed right in front of him.

John almost had a heart attack at that, but it turned out that no, Alexander had not, in fact, _died_. He'd merely exhausted himself - and, on top of that, he had the flu. He'd groaned that he needed to do this or that, that he wasn't going to bed, and although they'd been hostile for the most part, when Alexander got better, a friendship blossomed between them. It only grew stronger when Laf and Hercules came into the equation, inviting Alexander in with open arms. It was then that the PolySci student had opened up.

And _boy_ had he opened up. John was mesmerized by the handful of Alexander Hamilton that he suddenly had. Throughout the year, he didn't know how, but Alexander had managed to make him spill his every thought, made him bare his mind and soul, left it open for Alexander to poke at. Yet, he hadn't - he'd handled both with care, with trembling hands sometimes, and he'd muttered that he didn't know who his father was when John blurted out that he hadn't gone home for Thankgiving was because he detested his father.

So more songs came, and more secrets were shared, and somewhere along the way John fell in love with whom had become his best friend. But Alexander was busy, and Alexander seemed to be in love with Eliza, and Alexander was too good for him to go and ruin his day. Nobody wanted to have a secret relationship - and John was definitely not ready to be out of the closet to everyone save Hercules, Lafayette and Alexander.

And then Alexander had called him peach.

* * *

 

"Why do you do that?" John had asked one day, waiting in line to buy the few books he needed for the new course.

"Do what?" Alexander looked up from his phone, from what seemed like another Twitter War with Aaron Burr. He frowned at John.

"Calling me peach," he wanted to be confused and show it to his now best friend, but a smile had slithered up his lips, curling the corners of his mouth. "Like, I get it was a joke but - you always call me that now."

"Does it bother you?" at that, the black haired boy seemed to panic, deflate and sigh all at once, a mess and swirl of emotions passing through his dark eyes.

"No!" John laughed, raising his hand to squeeze his shoulder. "No, Alexander! Really, it doesn't! It's - cute?"

"Yes," he laughed back, seemingly nervous. "That's what I thought. Cute."

And John had left it at that, thinking of it as an inside joke no one who wasn't part of the Revolutionary Crew got. By winter, he'd been sure he'd known all that there was to know about Alexander Hamilton, or at least of what Alexander was willing to share.

* * *

 "You're leaving tomorrow, right?" Laf asked him on a snowy day, their curls piled on top of their head with a light dusting of snowflakes.

"Yeah," John winced, the snow crunching under his feet and his fingers kept warm by his cup of coffee. "My father called me up, letting me know that delaying the date wasn't an option. So a nice, long week of judging awaits me."

"Hmmm, sounds pleasant," they rolled their eyes. "You think you'll come out this time?"

"Nope," John immediately hit the brakes on that. "Seriously, no."

"And telling him you want to be a marine biologist, then?"

"Don't push it, Laf," the green-eyed boy sighed.

"And Alexander?" this time, their eyes shone with mischief.

"Alright, I'm leaving," turning on his heel, Laurens started to walk away but Lafayette laughed, looping their arm around his, pulling him towards their dormitory. "We're not doing this, Laf."

"Yes, we are," they took a sip of their weak-ass coffee, giving him a little smirk. "What? You really thought we hadn't noticed?"

"Yes," John glared at his own cup. "More like hoped, really."

"Well," they pursed their lips, opening the door for him. The warmth of the inside building was relieving, but John immediately missed the snow he never got to see before college. He could only enjoy it for long, after all. "I honestly do not know what to say about that? Alexander is a hard one to read, and I can only do it when he's drunk enough."

"Yeah, I know," John sighed, following his friend into their dorm, which they shared with John André, currently off campus. "Look, I don't - I haven't - I just -"

"You don't want to risk it," Laf finished for him, closing the door and sitting on their bed. John decided to take a chair. " _D'accord_. I can see the logic in that."

"He's," John struggled at that.

He's what? Alexander Hamilton was many things. Ambitious. Stubborn. Loud-mouthed. Arrogant. He had no brain-to-mouth filter. He was brash, bold, and he barely thought before he spoke. But he was passionate, too, in a way that always took John's breath away. He was creative. He was a damn good writer. He was an architect, a musician, a painter, an artist. He was the sort of melancholic guy that people wrote about in their short books, those that sold for readers longing to be poets. John liked to imagine what it would be like to kiss him - if he'd kiss softly, lazily, passionately, angrily, lovingly, lustful -

" _Comme c'est gentil_ , Laurens," Laf smirked at him, their hands on his knees.

John snapped out of his fantasies and blushed deeply, refusing to hold Lafayette's gaze.

"He's Alexander Hamilton," they finished for him, and John nodded. "And he's your best friend. I cannot tell you what to do, _mon ami_ , but I can tell you that if there was someone Alexander could fall in love with, it'd be you. You've always been patient with him, you've always been there for him and you've saved his _cul_ a couple times. He calls you his plum and all!"

"Wait, what?" John frowned. "No, he calls me his _peach_."

Lafayette frowned before their entire face lit up.

" _Oh, mon dieu_ ," they put their hand over their mouth, eyes wide. "You don't _know_."

"Know what?" John leaned down. "Laf, what am I supposed to know?"

"You're supposed to know why he calls you peach!" the French student grinned widely. "Don't you know?"

"It's a joke," his heart was beating frantically. "Laf-"

"It's a song," they scrambled to get their phone, opening YouTube. "Haven't you heard it? It's his favourite band, _je pense_. And his favourite song, too."

"His favourite is _Cough It Out_ ," the young man replied, but then a guitar was playing and he realized that he had never heard that song.

Alexander had never played that song when he was around.

" _You are my peach,_

_You are my plum,_

_You are my earth,_

_You are my sun,_

_I love your fingers,_

_I love your toes,_

_The back of your head,_

_The tip of your nose._ "

"What?" John asked, but Laf shushed him.

" _You are the reason I'm smiling when there's nothing to smile about_..."

"He calls me peach," the blush was taking over his entire face, hands quickly moving to hide it from them.

Lafayette laughed, though, and rose the volume of the song, singing along from time to time. The entire concept of it was insane, the first one being that Alexander had never played this song _ever_ in front of him, and he played The Front Bottoms daily.

"He sings it all the time," Laf narrowed their eyes. "Ah, but not when you're around! I see! _Il était tellement évident_!"

"This doesn't really mean he lo - _likes_ me back, Laf," John adverted their wide eyes. "Really, it just means he holds me in a high place. We're best friends. This was a joke, too, you gotta remember that."

"Do as you please," Laf leaned back against their bed, grinning widely. "But _I_ am very satisfied with this discovery. I'll call you soon. You leave and spend the rest of the day with _ton amour_."

"You breathe a word of this to the rest and I'll shave your hair," John threatened, pleased by the terrified squead Lafayette let out before he closed the door.

He was still blushing.

* * *

"John!"

 He didn't even have time to unwrap his scarf from his neck, no - Alexander was quick to barrel into him, eyes blazing, his hands moving to his shoulders to grasp the thick fabric of his expensive coat. 

"John, you can't leave!" _oh, that's right_ , he hadn't told Alexander about his father's call. He'd probably received a text from Lafayette or Hercules. "Tell him you can't! Tell him you've broken your leg or you've got a shit ton to study or better yet! Tell him to shove his homophobic, bigoted ideas up his-"

"Alex," John interrupted, and his best friend's mouth miraculously closed. He seemed to only do that for him. It reminded John of the peach situation and heat was brought again to John's cheeks. "Uh, look, I appreciate your worry but I really do have to go."

"Ah," Alexander's eyes dropped. "Your siblings."

"Yeah," John nodded, his hand moving to cover Alexander's on his right shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "I'll be fine, though!"

"You need to call me, my peach" his fingers tightened, and John thought for a moment that he'd say something jokingly when Alexander seemed to deflate. "I'm gonna feel pretty lonely without you here."

"Hey," John took his free hand and dug his fingers into Alexander's hair, scraping his scalp in a way he knew calmed his best friend down.

Hamilton's head dropped to John's shoulder, his breath leaving him, and John sighed, too. He was prone to that - worrying over his friends too much, especially John in his situation with his family.

"I'll be fine," John cooed, entwining their fingers together. "You'll be fine, too. Lafayette will be here. And André, too. You like him, don't you?"

"Everybody likes André," the brown eyed boy mumbled. "But it isn't you."

John laughed, and he prayed to God if there really was one that Alexander couldn't hear his rapidly beating heart.

Then the song changed to _Peach_.

Alexander suddenly pulled away from him, as if he'd been shocked, and his finger flew to the next button on their stereo. He was very calm about ti all, didn't really run much, but John could only see the nervous undertones on his face, the slight blush and his fidgeting fingers.

"Why did you change it?" John asked, taking off his outer layers.

Alexander shrugged, "It wasn't a song I felt right now."

"But it's the Front Bottoms," John replied, moving closer to Alexander and feeling extremely bold by the reaction the Caribbean boy had had. "And you seem to love peaches a lot, right?"

"You know this song?" Alexander turned to him, horrified. "Hold on - _you_ -"

"That's why you call me peach," John grinned, because he was a peach and his best friend as a tomato, for the first time in his life rendered speechless. "Because of the song, right?"

"I'm so sorry," Alexander burst. "I just - I _thought_ \- I-"

"Laf showed me the song," John's finger moved to the stereo and the now familiar guitar echoed in their dorm.

Alexander looked hurt. Betrayal shone in his eyes and he seemed to bubble with anger, shame and regret. John, very carefully, took another step towards his best friend, heart pounding and butterflies flying and hope up by the clouds. So it was true. Alexander _did_ like him.

"They didn't tell me you liked me, though," he was taller than Alexander, so he lifted his chin with a delicate hand. "I would've appreciated the honesty you pride yourself with, Alex."

"I couldn't tell you," he blurted out. "I couldn't - John, I'm so sorry. It's just - you already had all these exams on top of you, you looked so stressed, but then came Martha and you came out as gay, and you were so scared about everything, and then there was Laf coming out too, and the whole disaster with the debate team and Jefferson's arrival and-"

"You mean to tell me," John interrupted, gaping. "That you've liked me for... how long?"

"Uh," the PolySci student gave out a shrug, swallowing. "Practically since we met...?"

"Jesus, Alex," the southener laughed, nervously and joyiously, and _Peach_ was a song he really fucking liked and he _had_ to have it on his iPod. "You should've told me!"

"I just hope this doesn't change anything, p - _John_ ," Alexander caught himself, and John was hit with the sudden urge to kiss him.

Well, shit, he could do that just fine.

"This changes everything, Alex," John said and before the panic could settled on Alexander's system, he brought their lips together in a sweet, short kiss.

They hadn't spoken of boundaries, of anything, so John pulled away fairly quickly, catching Alexander with eyes like saucers, watching him as if he'd just grown a second head.

"Did you just _kiss me_?" Alexander spluttered, incredulous.

"Yeah," John laughed, and kissed him again to bolden the statement.

"But," the black haired boy breathed out, a wonderful look of happiness in his face as he laughed. "Why?"

"Thought it was obvious," again, his finger found the back button of the stereo and _Peach_ played once again. "You're my plum."

**Author's Note:**

> This was disgustingly sweet and not very good, but it was an idea roaming in my head for a while.
> 
> http://8tracks.com/niklitera/p-e-a-c-h
> 
> Here is a playlist to enjoy Alexander's music.


End file.
